It was settled that I was going to help Shruti salvage her artwork—on one condition.
Yesterday – Inside the Art Room
"Tell me the condition," the teacher asked.
"I need your help… without asking any questions."
My voice trembled a little. I took another sip of water to calm my nerves.
She stared at me for a moment.
"You need my help? Without asking questions?" she repeated, thinking for only two seconds before continuing. "Tell me in detail what's going to happen that you need my help with."
"Everything is under my control right now, so you don't have to worry. I promise no one is going to suffer. It's for everyone's good," I said.
"Listen, Rahul," she said gently. "You're a student and I'm a teacher. It's my responsibility to protect my students and guide them to become good people. You don't have to carry everything alone. If something is wrong, you can tell me. I might be able to help."
If I were a normal student with normal problems, maybe I would've told her.
But I'm not.
"Thank you, teacher. If you were my teacher when I was a child… I wouldn't be the person I am right now. I'll take care of it."
I smiled lightly.
"Rahul… I'm sorry for not being able to help you," she said with a worried expression.
"I'm sorry too… for being someone like this," I muttered, ashamed.
She gently lifted my chin.
"You didn't do anything wrong. So keep your head straight."
"How's my acting? Can I audition for films?" I asked with a smug grin.
"Yes, you can," she said, laughing and patting my head.
Present Day – Art Room
I was in the art room preparing for the restoration.
I wore my apron and arm sleeves, laid out my painting kit and brushes on the table, and waited for senior Rahul to join me.
The teacher had already informed the security guards that a few students would be helping her today. When we arrived, she handed me the key to the art room before heading to the staffroom.
Yesterday, the teacher had texted me saying Rahul wanted to help salvage my artwork. At first, I thought it was impossible… but after thinking about it, I decided to accept his help. Doing nothing is worse than trying.
Rahul walked into the room.
He came straight toward me, removed his glasses, put them in his bag, and looked at the damaged artwork.
"What was the theme? And how do you want to paint it? Tell me," he signed, sitting next to me.
I couldn't sign all the details, so I typed a message:
Shruti's Message
Theme: "A Peaceful Sunset."
I imagined a beautiful sunset on a calm beach. The sky painted with warm colors like orange, pink, and purple. The sun slowly setting, casting a golden glow over the waves. The beach empty, with only a few seagulls flying above.
How I planned to paint it:
Start with a warm sky using orange, pink, and purple, blended smoothly.
Add the sun low in the sky with soft edges.
Paint the waves with blue and green using wavy strokes.
Add a few seagulls.
Finally, paint small beach details like shells or rocks.
Rahul read the full message silently, then looked at the ruined artwork again.
"It's impossible to salvage the whole painting," he signed.
He stood up and walked outside to the garden.
After about fifteen minutes, he returned, and I looked at him, confused.
He typed:
"Why don't we change the theme?
With the colors already splattered, we can try something magical or imaginary."
I thought for a moment… then signed:
"The books you gave me… what kind of library was it?"
He signed back:
"It was old-fashioned but had a magical vibe. The smell of old books… everything was fascinating. But why are you asking now?"
I quickly typed a long message:
Shruti's Message:
New Idea
Theme: A Magical Library Under the Stars.
Imagine a giant, glowing library hidden beneath a starry sky. Huge bookshelves stretching all the way to the stars. Books glowing softly with magic. The air filled with stardust—the same magical vibe you described.
How I want to paint it:
Start with the night sky using deep blues and purples.
Add tall, slightly curved bookshelves reaching upward.
Paint books in gold, silver, and copper with small details.
Add magical elements: sparkling stars, glowing candles, fireflies…
Rahul read the message for a while, then signed:
"We don't have much time left."
He was right.
The theme was even more complex than the original one.
I bit my lip. I had a unique idea… but I couldn't execute it alone.
Rahul tapped my hand to get my attention and signed:
"Then let's use my art style—the one I created for myself."